Sweet Dreams
by Drebin
Summary: A man who fears life is given an interesting experience.


Opening narration: _7 o'clock at the end of another miserable day working as a paralegal in a well-respected law firm. Meet Thomas O'Connor, a tired and lonely man too busy for any sort of life that he considers rewarding or enjoyable. He is a man who is desperate to get away from this boring life—to have an exciting life worthy of a story. He is too afraid to take a step away from the current narration of his life. But shortly, circumstances will give him what he wants most._

Thomas was driving home in his Ford Focus toward his home in the rural area surrounding the busy city where he worked. He turned up the radio as he anxiously awaited a restful night. Out of the corner of his left eye, he saw a strange bluish light. He drove on not thinking much about it. As he continued on, he realized that this light was following him. Turn after turn on the winding maze of country roads, the light remained. He pulled his Focus over, reached into his glove compartment, and grabbed the Glock he had bought in case of a situation such as this. However, when he looked around, the light was no longer there. He drove on, confused, but contributed it to overwork. The clock on the dashboard read 10:23, "That's strange, he thought, that clock is 3 hours fast, guess I should have it repaired." At home, he decided to go to bed, forfeiting the uneventful evening he had planned. Just as sleep was coming over him, his heart pounded out of his chest, his body was squeezing every breath out of his lungs and his cold, clammy shirt stuck to his chest as the cold sweat poured out of his glands. He saw a strange vision that had terrified him, but he couldn't remember what it was. He went to sleep believing it was just the beginning of a semi-sleep dream.

Ch. 2

The next day, Thomas went about his dreary life in his usual, zombie-like state. He wrote summons, researched cases for his bosses, and much more of the mindless dirty work he felt like he had done for an eternity. He carried about him an air of angst and depression, and every step was tiring and much more trouble than it was worth to this shadow. As Thomas drove away from the office building, he thought about that metallic, blue light that had followed him the night before. There was a slight wrenching in the pit of his stomach as he wondered what it was and if he'll see it again. His wet hands gripped the steering wheel as he started home, still thinking about his odd encounter just about 24 hours ago. It was a clear New England night, and the countryside was full of red, yellow and orange-leafed statues with Thomas' small winding country road worming through the natural beauty. He arrived at his home and decided to spend the evening in his backyard and enjoy the cool, New England autumn. He ate a small meal, then went outside to sit in his patio and relax. He regained consciousness and found himself standing in an open field, looking at a fresh grave. Oddly, there was no name on the stone. He felt a chill go down his spine as he investigated his new area. He called out for anyone who could hear him, but no one answered. His pulse began to get faster as adrenaline shot through his body. "Where the hell am I" he needed to know. As he walked back, he noticed something different about the grave. He grit his teeth, fought back the growing fear, and went to look. The stone now read, "Come before the— before he could finish, he awoke, grasping for air, sitting in a pool of sweat. "Another dream," he whispered.

Ch. 3

It was a beautiful Saturday morning as Thomas ate his cereal and sipped on his coffee. The unsettled feeling in his stomach was still barely present, and he was finding it a little tougher to dismiss these dreams as only the product of overwork and too little sleep. He watched the Fox News Saturday morning show, and had a very intellectually stimulating conversation with the anchors about the current state of the economy. He argued his point very well, and the opposing viewpoints on the round table admitted that his brilliant point defeated their argument. He had no plans of meeting with anyone on his day off, as usual. He had argued several times that he was better off without any idiot, and he successfully convinced himself that was true. So, he spent another Saturday alone. The mountains were pretty this time of year, so camping overnight was the thing to do. His car was loaded and Thomas got behind the wheel. "That's funny, the car won't start," he said to himself. He opened the glove box to find the number to call for the dealership, but the glove box was empty. No proof of insurance, the title to the car was gone, as was the registration, and the map he kept in there. He went inside the house and called a tow truck. The man came and took his car to the shop, but since the shop wouldn't open until Monday, he stayed at his house and gave the man his number to call when the car had been fixed. He decided to pack his backpack and go hike in the mountains to get his mind off of his troubles.

Ch. 4

The hike was beautiful. The almost glowing shades of red and yellow and everything in between were nearly blinding. The wildlife could only rival them. Thomas saw squirrels, rabbits, and a few deer going about their daily chores. An elk with a smooth brown coat was stopping to have a drink of water with its reflection in a small, crystal lake tightly nestled in between the hills. Thomas needed a breather and sat down. He decided to set up camp and sleep for the night. He awoke in his bed at home with the fire alarm going off. He couldn't find his way out of the room he spent every night in. The panic was taking over every sense. His fingers and arms tingled to the point of losing sensation. Every breath was a fight with the smoke and the panic, and the fist in his chest hit him harder with every punch. His eyes opened as he gasped for air. There was the lake, with the half moon laying gently within it. His camp was just the way he left it. "That's what all these dreams mean," he yelled. "My house is going to burn down." Thomas paid for the motel room and took his things in it. Gray-green walls with mildew-stained blue carpet. The bed didn't move when he sat on it, but it was ok—he was away from his house, which was saving his life. Sunday night passed without any sort of nightmare. On Monday morning, he drove his loaner car to work and resumed his usual monotony. Thomas worked late on work which he could have sworn he had done last week. On his way back to the motel, he decided to drive by his house and see if anything happened. He pulled up the drive-way to find his beautiful house nothing but charred remains. He noticed that his Ford Focus was sitting in the drive as well, only the black, flaky skeleton of the car remained. "How did that get back there," he wondered. Before he could begin to speculate, his chest began shaking. He tried with all of his might to draw air in, but could not. His arms and legs burned as if his blood was on fire. The restlessness within him grew as he tried to move, but could not. His heart was fluttering and his body was freezing as he pulled air into his lungs through a straw.

Ch. 5

The constant beep of the heart monitor signaled a flat line. The nurses saw the Code Red going off—cardio-respiratory arrest. They ran into the room, sticking needles into his body—one clasped her fist on his chest and tried to beat the life back into him. The doctor walked in as death settled in. The doctor picked up the chart to record the time of death. "Mr. Thomas O'Connor, burned severely in a horrific car crash last week. Apparently he was driving home from work when his car was side-swiped. The internal damage must have been too great."

Closing narration: _Thomas O'Connor, a sad man unhappy with his life, but too afraid to try to change it. A man who longed to be memorable and lead an exciting life. Perhaps, fortunately for him, his death gave him part of his wish, because now he is a member of The Twilight Zone._


End file.
